


Fly Me To The Moon

by A_Million_Regrets



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brief mention of handjob, M/M, This is quite sad actually though, a bit cheesy/romantic towards the end sorry me is a hopeless romantic oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23771845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Million_Regrets/pseuds/A_Million_Regrets
Summary: On a dismal, rainy day, ex-lovers Dan and Phil meet in a coffee shop four years after their break up.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 47





	Fly Me To The Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case anyone gets confused, everything written in italics is the past.

Phil's weary gaze wandered around the small coffee shop, taking in the quietude and emptiness inside the small place. It was a tiny, cosy coffee shop in the midst of tall, fancy buildings and never-ending traffic, hidden from the hustle and bustle of the modern city. There were round wooden tables, and lovely vases of dahlia flowers on each table, spreading the fragrance everywhere. The shop was beautiful in its own way, submerged in an odd silence.

Phil's fingers wrapped around his warm cup, and he inhaled the aroma of freshly made coffee and pretty flowers deep into his lungs. His eyes lifted towards the windows, gazing outside at the rainy roads and people with their fancy umbrellas and raincoats. A car swished by, splashing the muddy puddles, and Phil's eyes turned away quietly, returning back to his coffee cup.

There was a weird, almost vague, sense of emptiness in his heart. An odd feeling of not belonging anywhere, like a misplaced puzzle piece. He felt like he didn't want to be here, but he didn't quite know where else to be.

It was a very strange day, and he couldn't help but notice the sad void in his life. There was nothing to look forward to, no one to go back to. He was just uselessly floating through life, and it had been that way since . . .

Phil sighed heavily, hands tightening around his cup. He didn't think it was the right time to sit around in an unknown coffee shop, reminiscing past relationships and regretting things that could've been.

But rainy days were always more painful, more unforgettable, and he could never quite control his sadness during those days. His mind always drifted back to hot coffee and warm cuddles and curly hair. It had been that way for the last four years, and he knew it was time he put an end to it.

At least that was what he promised himself every time, only to go back to pondering and wondering and aching . . . and remembering things he shouldn't . . .

_“Dan,” Phil murmured sleepily, placing a kiss on top of Dan's curly head. His mind was drowsy, slipping away into unawareness. Dan was snuggled up against his chest, wrapped in a blanket. The living room was dark, the slow drizzle of the rain and the quiet noise of the television the only sound in the room._

_“Hmm?” Dan murmured, changing the channel with the remote and turning to Phil with bright brown eyes and glossy cheeks and a lopsided smile._

_Phil leaned down and placed a soft, wet kiss on his pink lips, tangling his fingers in Dan's beautiful, curly locks. Dan hummed into the kiss, placing his warm, delicate hand on Phil's cheek. Phil sighed in satisfaction and the moment felt so important, so significant. It felt like something to look back on and smile with nostalgia years later. Phil wondered distantly if he would remember this moment. Placing his hand above Dan's on his cheek, Phil deepened the kiss, hoping that he would. It was far too precious to forget._

Phil sighed again in frustration, the sound of rain loud in his ears. He had been trying to find Dan for months, locating old friends and acquaintances to ask them about the whereabouts of his past lover. They all said he had moved away, but no one knew the exact location. If only he could find Dan. If only he could see Dan, hear his voice one last time . . . He would do anything. He would ask for another chance; he would beg and cry for it. He would–

Phil swallowed the pain and ignored his unwanted thoughts. He looked around forlornly at the empty tables and lonely people sitting scattered here and there in the corners. There was a young lady with her service dog, an older man with his laptop, a group of teenagers at the very back, a girl opposite him drawing in her notebook, and a man with long, lean limbs and slender fingers reading a newspaper in front of him.

Phil stilled and tensed, and his eyes glided back to the man. He was sitting directly in front of Phil, just a table away. He was holding a newspaper, his face and identity hidden behind the large piece of paper. Phil stared with curious eyes as the man coiled his long, pale fingers around his cup. His heart thumped, and he watched, transfixed. Those hands were familiar and unforgettable, taking him back to his old bedroom, to sweaty palms and panting breaths and soft moans. He could never forget those hands.

_“_ _Fuck,” Phil breathed, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. His fingers slipped away from the laptop, tangling in Dan's hair instead. “Dan, I'm working,” he panted. “Not now.”_

“ _Mm,” Dan murmured, shooting Phil a lopsided smirk and crawling onto Phil's lap, straddling his hips. His fingers coiled around Phil's erection, tightening, teasing._

_Phil breathed heavily, and Dan's hands moved along his shaft, his eyes a bright brown as he gazed at Phil. He smiled in satisfaction when Phil groaned, one hand gripping Phil's shoulder tightly. “God, you're unpredictable,” Phil breathed, and it was true. He could never tell what Dan was thinking. With Dan, Phil could never say when he was going to be forced into another wild adventure._

_Phil's hands reached forward and grabbed the collar of Dan's T-shirt, pulling him down abruptly and kissing him on the mouth roughly, tasting him on his tongue. “Kinky,” Dan grinned when he pulled back._

“Phil,” Dan said with surprise, newspaper lowered, eyes wide in astonishment.

Phil stared incredulously, completely in disbelief, unable to say anything at all. His heart thudded and his chest ached, a small lump growing in his throat. He had been searching desperately all over the city for Dan, but there he was, sat in front of him like a dream come true. He had imagined this very moment so many times that he lost count; he had practiced what he would do, what he would say, but now, he couldn't remember anything. Couldn't think. Couldn't breathe.

Moments passed quietly, unnoticeably, and no one said a single word. The sound of the traffic outside, the blaring of horns, the mindless chatter all around him disappeared like it was happening in the background.

Phil knew he should say something, anything, but there was nothing left to say. There was nothing left between them except for regrets, mistakes and four years worth of longing.

Dan dropped his gaze to his cup, quietly folding the newspaper and putting it aside. Phil stared at him, taking in his curly hair and pale skin and pink lips and beautiful face, the face he hadn't seen in four years. His heart ached and ached and he wanted to open his mouth and say . . . say something . . . but there was nothing.

“I didn't expect to see you here,” Dan mumbled, voice quiet, strained, avoiding Phil's eyes.

Phil felt choked. Was this really Dan? Why did he feel like a complete stranger? “Yeah.”

Dan remained quiet, staring at the table in silence, his expression solemn. Minutes slipped by and Phil's heart ached. He looked older now, more mature. His hair was shorter than Phil liked, and he was thinner than the last time Phil had seen him, but the most change was in his behaviour. He was so quiet.

Dan was never quiet, never serious. He was loud and obnoxious and always talking, filling the silence with his laughs and jokes. He always looked like he was waiting with bated breath to share his stories with Phil, always starting another sentence before he had finished the one before.

Phil couldn't recognize this Dan. He couldn't tolerate it. He couldn't tolerate the silence and guilt and uncertainty between them. He wanted Dan to laugh and tease and joke with him like they used to do before. He wanted Dan's laughs to fill the entire room again.

_“Stop it!” Dan laughed loudly, scrambling away from Phil, struggling to get away. Phil chuckled and slid his arms around Dan's waist, nuzzling his nose against Dan's neck and lifting him up from the ground. Dan let out excited little laughs that echoed in the room and_ _filled_ _Phil's chest with warmth, spreading through his body like a drug. “Phil, you asshole! Put me down!”_

_“Nope,” Phil chuckled, “Told you I could do it.”_

_Dan struggled out of his grip and ran around the sofa, heaving with laughter, eyes sparkling and such a deep, rich brown that Phil knew he had helplessly fallen in love with this man._

_Dan held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, fine. You win.”_

_“Loser gets tickled to death. You said it!” Phil smirked, his heart full and overflowing with joy and love as he chased a wide-eyed Dan around the room. Phil caught his wrist and they tumbled to the_ _floor. Dan struggled and panted to get away as Phil tickled his stomach, making him laugh loudly and_ _carefreely_ _, his cheeks flushed pink, hair messy and wet, eyes huge and shining._

_Panting and out of breath, Phil climbed on top of him and kissed him so deeply that Dan's eyes fluttered shut and his hands came up to grip Phil's T-shirt, holding so tightly and kissing so desperately that Phil's heart melted. In the back of his mind, Phil was already dreaming of marrying this man and spending the rest of his life with him. He knew at that moment that he could never love anyone else ever again. He could never imagine being apart from Dan. He could never live without seeing Dan, without kissing him, holding him._

“I haven't seen you in a while,” Phil managed to finally say through the lump in his throat. “How have you been?”

“Four years,” Dan murmured quietly, sighing softly. “I've been alright. What about you?”

“Fine,” Phil whispered in a quiet, broken voice, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“When did you come back from Japan?” Dan asked silently, a hint of bitter resentment hiding beneath his casual tone.

Phil swallowed harshly. “Last month.” His coffee lay forgotten in front of him, untouched and turning cold. Phil's eyes pricked with tears, and he wanted to hold Dan. The urge was too strong, impossible to ignore. He tightened his shaking hands into fists, swallowing the pain down his throat. The silence was pressing in his ears, and he couldn't bear to look at Dan, at the person he still loved with all his heart and soul. The longing ache was so deep, he felt it down to his bones.

“I watch your videos,” Dan told him quietly, and his soft voice was still the most beautiful Phil had ever heard. “On YouTube.”

Phil's sad gaze lifted and met Dan's eyes, staring mesmerized. His heart sank, and his chest tightened as he asked, “You do?”

Dan looked away, turning back to his cup. He had a small, nostalgic smile on his face, a strange, dull sadness in his eyes. The quiet, dripping noise of rain was all Phil could hear. Dan's delicate face was all he could see. Why did he let Dan go?

“Yeah, sometimes,” Dan acknowledged in a small whisper. “You're famous.” He gave Phil a small smile.

Phil's heart thumped in his chest, his thoughts all over the place. He wanted Dan. He wanted Dan just as much as he did four years ago. “You used to say that I'll be famous one day,” Phil whispered, swallowing painfully.

Dan smiled softly, as if he were remembering the past, remembering the precious little moments, the good moments, remembering their laughs and teasing glances and midnight conversations and singing in the shower and morning kisses and rough, panting moans and–and–

Phil dropped his gaze to his hands, swallowing his tears. Dan remained silent, gazing through the window at the damp roads outside, a sad, longing smile on his face. “You're quiet,” Phil whispered softly. “It's not like you.”

“Yeah . . . well . . .” Dan's smile vanished and he looked away from the window, staring at the table instead. “There's nothing to say.”

_“There's so much to say!” Phil heard Dan's excited voice through the phone, gushing on and on about his brother's pet dog. “I miss you already. I can't wait to tell you about it!”_

_“I miss you too, Dan,” Phil smiled, holding the phone closer to his ear._

_“Mm,” Dan hummed, “I can't wait to be with you. I have so much to tell you. You won't believe it. Did you know my mom has a garden in her backyard now! It's so beautiful! There are lots of flowers. I took some pictures. I can't wait to show you. Can we make a garden in our backyard, babe? I mean our apartment is super small, but when we buy a house, can we–” Dan chatted excitedly, and Phil listened patiently, a small smile on his face. Dan's mind always worked a mile a minute, and Phil adored that about him. “Oh, what are you doing, by the way?”_

_Phil blinked, “Oh, uh, I'm about to do laundry.”_

_“Don't forget to wash the bedsheets, okay?” Dan reminded him strictly. “It smells. You peed on it, didn't you?”_

_Phil rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Dan. I always pee on the bed. I'm a two-year-old child.”_

_Dan laughed, and Phil smiled softly, his heart warm. God, he missed Dan's laugh, and he could almost imagine Dan's smile on the other side as he said softly, “I love you, Phil. I'll see you in a few days, okay?”_

“I don't know what to say,” Dan whispered quietly, weaving his fingers together on the table. “It's been four years . . .”

Phil stared at the rain outside, at the gloomy sky and rumbling clouds, and felt strangely empty. “Yeah,” he whispered softly in agreement.

Dan sighed heavily, taking a quiet sip from his cup and putting it down with a clatter. He stared at his cup solemnly, moving the tip of his forefinger along the rim of his cup. It was still pouring outside and the group of teenagers behind him burst into laughter, an empty noise that echoed in the silence.

“Do you want to sit with me for a while?” Dan murmured softly, his voice filled with some deep emotion Phil couldn't name.

Music started playing from somewhere deep inside the shop, a familiar tune that made Phil's chest ache. It used to be his favourite song, _their_ favourite song. Haunting memories of dancing around the room during rainy nights flooded Phil's brain, and he clenched his hands into fists. “Yeah,” he answered slowly, standing up from his seat and padding over to sit in front of Dan.

'Fly me to the moon' played in the background, a quiet tune that drowned out the glum silence between them. “You've changed,” whispered Phil in a small, hurt-filled voice.

_“Change?” Dan whispered, snuggling back against Phil and pulling the blanket closer to his body. “Why would I change?”_

_Phil nuzzled his nose against Dan's neck, spooning him from behind and peppering his shoulder with little kisses. The room was dark, and it was midnight according to the clock ticking on the wall. It was raining outside, and they were lying naked under the duvet. “I don't know. I just had this thought that maybe . . .”_

_Dan stilled and there was a confused silence for a while. He turned around to face Phil, eyes a bright, knowing brown. “I won't change,” he whispered in a reassuring tone, placing his palm on Phil's cheek. “We won't change.”_

_Phil placed his hand above Dan's and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. “Yeah,” he said slowly._

_Dan leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “What's wrong, Phil?” he asked cautiously._

_Phil swallowed and opened his eyes, avoiding Dan's piercing gaze. Dan could always tell when something was wrong. He could read Phil like an open book. “We . . . we're drifting apart,” Phil murmured quietly._

_Dan remained silent for a while, his hand still on Phil's cheek, thumb rubbing comforting circles. Phil took a deep breath and continued, “We're both busy with work and we barely see each other. We've been fighting a lot and . . . and there's always an argument waiting to happen. It's . . .” Phil trailed off, voice choked._

_“That's not true,” Dan protested weakly. “You know it's not. We're busy and stressed, that's true, but that doesn't mean we don't love each other.”_

_“Yeah.” Phil sighed. “Yeah, you're right.”_

_Dan smiled, and Phil's worries melted away. He leaned forward and kissed Dan, tasting sweet coffee on his lips and inhaling his familiar smell and warmth. His hands tangled in Dan's curls and Dan snuggled against his chest, tucking his face under Phil's chin. The air was cold like a typical rainy night, and Phil wrapped his arms around Dan, holding him close and drifting off to a deep, comfortable slumber._

“Do you remember this song?” Dan asked him, a bittersweet smile on his face, fingertip quietly circling around the rim of his cup.

“Yeah. Of course,” Phil whispered quietly, and he couldn't help but look up at Dan's face with a small, sad smile. “How can I forget?”

Dan lifted his gaze and met his eyes, and almost instantly, Phil's heart did a backflip and came thudding back to his chest, the surroundings blurring away into the background until all he could see was Dan. Dan and his rich, brown eyes and soft, curly hair and lopsided smile and cute little dimples. Dan who talked a lot, and who was picky and short-tempered and stubborn and messy. Dan who annoyed him to no end, but held him close at night. Dan who he thought he would marry one day.

Phil couldn't look away. The moment stretched on and the song played on. The teenagers let out rumbling laughs, but all Phil could see was Dan. There was something burning and breaking between them, some emotion he couldn't place. He breathed heavily, and his eyes filled with tears, his heart aching . . . aching for . . .

Phil's hand reached out to touch Dan's on the table as he blurted, “Dan, I–”

“Don't,” Dan whispered brokenly, pulling his hands away. “Don't.”

Phil was desperate, his feelings uncontrollable. “Dan, I still–”

“Please don't say it,” Dan pleaded desperately, swallowing and turning away with tears in his eyes. “Please don't.”

_“Stop being a fucking bitch, alright?” Phil shouted angrily, stomping back to Dan and glaring at him._

_“Lower your fucking voice,” Dan stood up from the sofa and yelled, “Don't you dare talk to me like that!”_

_“Why not?” Phil roared, taking a step forward and shoving Dan back. Dan clenched his jaw and his fists tightened. Phil knew he was going too far. He knew he was taking his stress and anger out on Dan, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn't stop the words from leaving his mouth. “What the fuck are you going to do, huh?!”_

_Dan heaved, almost shaking in anger. “What did I say to make you so angry?” he asked, glaring at Phil. “All I said was to clean your fucking mess!”_

_“I'm working!” Phil shouted, grabbing his hair in frustration. “I'm busy! How many times do I have to tell you?”_

_“I work my ass off all day and all I want–” Dan fumed, “–is some peace and quiet when I come home, and you know I don't like a messy house. Why can't you–”_

_“Why don't you clean it then?” Phil accused with angry eyes._

_“Because I have a fucking job!” Dan yelled and Phil stilled like a statue, his heart sinking. “Your YouTube isn't enough. We have bills to pay. Grow the fuck up and take some responsibility, you fucking asshole!”_

_Phil's heart plummeted, and Dan blinked, the realization of what he had said dawning on his face immediately. Phil swallowed, feeling humiliated. “Fuck you,” he choked out. “If it's so hard to live with me, why don't you fucking leave!” he shouted, shoving Dan back and heading to his living room. “No one's forcing you to stay!” he yelled and slammed the door shut so hard that the walls vibrated._

“Do you have . . . are you in a . . .” Phil stopped painfully, swallowing the lump in his throat. The song continued to play, and Phil never hated the stupid song more than he did at that moment.

“No,” Dan responded with a sigh. “I'm not in a relationship if that's what you're asking.”

“Then why?” Phil pleaded desperately, “Dan, I regret it. I can't–I never forgot about you. Not even for a single second. I have always . . .” Phil's throat closed up, and he trailed off, swallowing the large lump in his throat. “I missed you,” he managed to choke out.

“You didn't call me,” Dan said quietly. “Not even once.”

Phil stared at his hands. “I'm sorry.”

Dan's face was blank, his eyes empty. There was no emotion on his face, and Phil's regrets and guilt coiled around his throat and choked him. “I waited for you,” Dan admitted without looking at him. “For a while.”

Phil didn't know what to say, what to do to make it all better. He had always been a fuck up, hurting people around him. “I'm sorry,” he repeated morosely.

“It's fine. We were growing apart anyway,” Dan said with a sad smile. “We both knew that, didn't we?”

Phil's heart was heavy with the weight of the words he had been waiting to say, but somehow he couldn't anymore. He didn't know how. “I want another chance,” Phil blurted, “Dan, I can make you happy. Please. Let's start over. We can. I can make you happy. I promi–”

“We can't, Phil,” Dan told him quietly. “We can't.”

_“We can!” Dan shouted, “Please, Phil. We can do this. We can–”_

_“No, Dan,” Phil replied quietly. “It won't work.”_

_Dan stared at him in shock, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. “You're giving up on us.”_

_“No!” Phil denied, cupping Dan's cheeks gently. “No, baby. I can never–”_

_Dan slapped his hands away, “Fuck you, Phil. You never fucking told me_ _you applied for a scholarship. This was planned. This was all fucking plann–”_

_Phil kissed him softly, gently, pouring everything he could into it. He had meant to tell Dan, but he couldn't find the right moment. They fought more often these days, and there were very few conversations between them. There was always a stupid argument or disagreement going on; one of them was always angry with the other. It was hard to find a genuine moment. Laughter was rare and silence was more common._

_Phil wasn't even sure if they loved each other anymore. The only time he could feel even a tiny semblance of love was during quiet moments at night when Dan would cuddle closer to him. Phil would wrap his arms around Dan, and bury his nose in Dan's beautiful curls, inhaling the familiar smell of his shampoo. He was always reluctant to speak during those fragile moments, always scared of breaking the spell._

_“I'm sorry, Dan,” Phil whispered when he pulled back. “I have to leave next week.”_

_Dan's face crumpled and tears slipped down his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around Phil's waist and cried into Phil's chest. Phil held him close, heart heavy and eyes filled with tears. He had never seen Dan cry as much as he did that day._

The atmosphere was cold and silent and murky, charged with an emotion Phil could never define. The coffee shop was submerged in a strange stillness. Rain pelted against the windows, the pitter-pattering noise of dripping water dull and distant, sounding from somewhere far away. Time itself seemed to flow slower inside the shop. Minutes slipped by, and it felt like a decade.

“ _Fly me to the moon . . . and let me play among the stars . . .”_ Dan hummed along to the tune, staring at the pouring rain outside, eyes full of sadness and nostalgia.

Phil swallowed, and his eyes filled with tears. Dan's gaze slowly drifted back to him, and he tensed. Memories flowed into his brain and crashed against him, memories of Dan's joyful laughs and cold morning smiles and warm hugs on rainy nights. Phil trembled and his whole body ached with the need to hold Dan tightly in his arms.

“It's a beautiful song, isn't it?” Dan smiled tearfully.

“The most beautiful song I've ever heard,” Phil murmured with tears choking his words. He couldn't control them anymore. Everything he had kept hidden for four years burst out of him, and he blurted, “Dan, I'm in love with you.”

Dan leaned over the table abruptly and connected their lips, a soft kiss that made Phil's chest ache and squeeze with love and longing. His hands came up and tangled in Dan's hair, fingers squeezing the soft locks, trying to remember how they felt against his palm. Dan tasted of tears and warm coffee and happiness, and Phil drank it in, forgetting to breathe, his heart halting in his chest. He had missed Dan. He had missed Dan more than he realized.

Dan pulled back and sat back in his chair, wide-eyed and panting. “I missed you,” he murmured softly.

Phil breathed harshly, and he didn't know if he should ask, but he couldn't help it; he couldn't help but hope. “Can we start over?”

Dan smiled a sad smile and gazed outside at the pouring rain. “Maybe.”

~*~

_The living room was dark, submerged under a peaceful silence. The sound of the rain was dull, the slow drizzling noise outside merely a distant echo. Phil's heart was warm and quiet in his chest, pumping with slow, steady beats. His hands were wrapped around Dan's waist, and Dan's arms were circled around his neck as they swayed to the slow song. Phil smiled a stupid, lovesick smile and twirled Dan around._

_Dan let out soft, embarrassed laughs that filled the entire room, tripping on his feet and gripping Phil tightly as they swirled around the room, laughing and teasing each other as they stumbled._

_Dan smiled a beautiful smile, sliding back into Phil's arms as easily as a key into a lock. They fit together perfectly, like puzzle pieces. Something had always connected them to each other, something that crackled between them like static. It was a feeling that flowed in Phil's blood, pouring through his fingertips. He couldn't live without Dan. He could never live without Dan. “I love you,” Phil murmured into his hair, quietly swaying to the music._

_“I love you too,” Dan smiled and pecked his lips, eyes sparkling with happiness and love. “If you ever break up with me, you can listen to this song and cry,” Dan joked teasingly, making Phil roll his eyes. Dan always had a weird sense of humour._

_“Don't be silly. I'll never break up with you,” Phil whispered, pulling Dan closer._

_“Mm.” Dan placed his chin on Phil's shoulder, closing his eyes as they swayed to the music. “Good.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea for this story from a youtube video of the song 'Fly me to the moon'. There's an edited video of the song while it's raining and this plot popped into my mind. Thank you for reading!! :D


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